


Make Me Helpless

by ilovelocust



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Naga Keith (Voltron), Naga Shiro (Voltron), Paralysis, consensual poisoning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 20:52:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15804372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilovelocust/pseuds/ilovelocust
Summary: There are as many varieties of Naga as there are snakes. Some like Shiro are constrictors, wrapping around their prey and taking in slack on every breath in until their victim suffocates. Others are venomous, using their fangs to inject their victims with toxins that stop the heart and destroys the blood. Keith though, he the kind of Naga that paralyzes. One well placed bite, and his prey is helpless. Limbs rendered limp and unresponsive. Their still conscious mind trapped in a prison of their own flesh. Some consider it the worst fate imaginable. Terrified and powerless, waiting for an end the victim cannot stop. Funny how, as Keith pumps that very toxin into Shiro’s veins, fear is the furthest thing from his mind.





	Make Me Helpless

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Keith asks. Shiro doesn’t answer immediately, deliberately takes his time draining his cup. Letting violet eyes search his expression for any signs of discomfort. He won’t find any.

A final swallow, and Shiro offers the empty cup. Clawed fingers snatch it from Shiro’s own, before Keith slithers away, across the small cave to lay it down among the rest of their supplies. Shiro is a fine Naga, handsome, strong, and in the years before he lost his arm, many would have considered him desirable, but Keith is something else entirely. If Shiro’s scales are the shimmering black of a moonless starlit night, Keith’s scales are the red-orange of an open flame. When the sun’s rays hit him just right, Keith’s lower half seems formed from liquid fire. Shiro had never stood a chance, from the first time he’d seen him, Shiro had been captivated by his beauty. Though, that might have something to do with their first meeting also involving the other Naga swooping in to save Shiro from a rampaging minotaur. He hadn’t needed the rescue, but who wouldn’t swoon into those arms.

“I’m sure Keith,” Shiro smiles, stretching back among the furs Keith had carefully arranged for the occasion. It is a truly impressive collection. Shiro’s torso might be the size of a mortal mans, but his tail is easily the length of three grown men end to end. To be able to lay stretched out, without a single scale touching the cold stone of the ground, is a luxury he couldn’t have imagined a few short years before, “I’ve drank, I’ve ate, I’ve used the bathroom,” Shiro counts off the various preparations that Keith had made sure he engaged in before they moved further, “I’ve even swallowed down that foul concoction of yours,” When Shiro had asked, Keith had just told him it was a precaution. Being Keith’s lover was learning to accept his occasional non-answers, “I’m ready, Keith.”

Keith dithers a second more before gliding back to where Shiro is laying, a small crease of seriousness between his brows. Shiro sits up to greet him properly, “Takashi,” Strong hands cup Shiro’s cheeks, “You will tell me if anything goes wrong. If you want to stop. Even if you can only move your lips, we can stop.” Keith’s stare bores into Shiro, his voice filled with determination. As if Shiro could ever doubt that Keith wouldn’t rip out his own fangs before hurting him.

Shiro kisses him. Suppressing a chuckle at Keith’s muffled “mrph!” Surprised or no, Keith’s lips part for him without hesitation. He pushes his tongue into Keith’s mouth, licking up the blunt sides of Keith’s fangs, as he digs his fingers into his lover’s hair, controlling the kiss. It will be the last thing he controls for hours.

Keith’s a bit dazed, drunk on Shiro’s mouth, as they part, “I know baby,” Shiro says. Keith blinks rapidly, probably trying to remember what question Shiro is responding to, “I trust you,” Shiro lays back, letting his hand fall down to the swell of where Keith’s skin turns to scales, “And I want this.” More than he can articulate without turning himself into a stuttering mess of embarrassment. He’s been fantasizing about this for weeks, and now that they are here, he is not turning back.

Keith’s brain seems to finally come back online at those words, “Okay,” Keith mutters, nodding, then firmer, “Okay.” Keith pulls himself from Shiro’s grip and slithers down the length of Shiro’s tail, picking up the end of it and cradling it close like the most precious of packages. Keith runs his fingers softly across the surface of Shiro’s scales, almost petting him. It tickles. Shiro viciously suppresses the urge to laugh or pull away.

“Let’s begin,” Keith says, smiles, baring his fangs, then he bites into Shiro’s flesh.

-

There are as many varieties of Naga as there are snakes. Some like Shiro are constrictors, wrapping around their prey and taking in slack on every breath in until their victim suffocates. Others are venomous, using their fangs to inject their victims with toxins that stop the heart and destroys the blood. Keith though, he the kind of Naga that paralyzes. One well placed bite, and his prey is helpless. Limbs rendered limp and unresponsive. Their still conscious mind trapped in a prison of their own flesh. Some consider it the worst fate imaginable. Terrified and powerless, waiting for an end the victim cannot stop. Funny how, as Keith pumps that very toxin into Shiro’s veins, fear is the furthest thing from his mind.

Keith’s bite hurts, his fangs slip between Shiro’s scales. Stings, as his venom squirts into the meat, but nearly as soon as it starts, it’s already over. Hardly any venom applied at all. Soft lips press a kiss to pinprick holes, before Keith gently lays the tip of Shiro’s tail back among the fur. 

Shiro gives himself permission to wiggle now. Keith’s venom is supposed to work fast, and he wants to know the exact moment it takes hold. It’s slightly disappointing how little difficulty there is in the movement. 

Keith glares reproachfully as he slides up to his next chosen spot, “Stop that,” Keith says, trying to pin Shiro’s tail still with his arms. He won’t win that competition. Keith is strong and deadly, but a venomous Naga is just never going to out muscle a constrictor in a tail wrestling match. They’re strengths are just concentrated in different areas, “Shiro,” Keith does not whine, but it’s a near thing.

“Make me,” Shiro smiles, baring his fangs in open challenge. Make him helpless, force him not to be a brat.

Keith’s nose scrunches up, he never could resist provocation. With a speed that would make a rattlesnake proud, Keith’s fangs are buried in Shiro’s flesh again. This one isn’t so quick. He can feel the liquid squirting into him, a continuous flow, a heavier dose. The first bite, Keith was trying to take it slow. Give Shiro time to adjust and back out, but that isn’t what Shiro wants. He wants it quick. He wants Keith’s venom to take him like a tidal wave. Strip him of every ounce of control so fast he has no chance to resist. Leave him with nothing but Keith’s touch.

He gets his wish, Keith only lets go to move further up and dose a new area. The creeping sensation of dead weight crawls up his tail as muscle after muscle relaxes and lets go. Paralysis is such an odd sensation in the early stages. His brain and reality don’t agree. He tells the tip of his tail to curl and his brain says it happens, but his eyes show the reality of it laying limp and still in the furs where Keith left it. 

The bites don’t pause until Keith reaches the slit concealing Shiro’s dual dicks. Keith cocks his head contemplating, tracing a finger along the outside of it, “I wonder if you’ll still be able to get hard for me,” Keith asks no one. Shiro chokes on his tongue. Keith dips his fingers in, pushing down to rub between sensitive skin of Shiro’s cock heads, and Shiro bucks pathetically. He’s pinned by the weight of his own tail. Keith’s not even done and Shiro is already trapped and at his mercy, “Maybe I could press one of mine inside with yours,” Keith says, and Shiro can see it, in his mind’s eye, one of Keith’s fat cocks trying to squeeze into the space only meant to store his own. Rubbing so good along his shafts even as his body protests the fit, “I’ve always wanted to know what it would be like to cum inside your slit,” Keith locks eyes with Shiro, “We could do it together.” Oh god, he’s going to die and ascend.

“Keith,” Shiro croaks.

Mischief glints in violet, Keith leans close, and Shiro can feel his cheeks begin to heat, “You’re turning red Takashi, does that mean you like that idea?” Keith whispers conspiratorially.

Shiro lets out a garbled sound that might have once been in the same country as an answer, and Keith grins, “I promise to think about it, if the opportunity arrives,” Keith says, kissing Shiro’s cheek, before darting back down.

He’s forever grateful that Keith has the sense to lay the next bite somewhere other than on top of his slit.

-

Keith’s first bite to the relatively delicate skin of his torso is more like a stinging kiss than a proper bite. Right above his first rings of scales, there and gone. Then another, gentle and quick to its right, “Keith,” Shiro groans, “Come on, don’t tease,” Hadn’t he convinced his lover he wanted this fast already? Shiro reaches down, tries to press Keith’s head to his abs, prod him to give Shiro more. Then there are fangs buried into his forearm. Shiro yelps, and Keith makes sure to glare at him before unlatching from his arm, letting it fall unresponsive to the furs below.

Keith is in his face lightning fast, narrowed eyes locked onto his own, a hand in his hair to hold him still, “Patience, Takashi,” Keith hisses, before leaning down, a butterfly sting to Shiro’s throat, “I” jaw, “will” cheek, “not” brow, “risk” lips, “you.”

Keith pulls back to survey his work. Shiro can’t focus on him, can’t move his eyes down to center on his lover’s beautiful face. Keith smirks, satisfied, then lets him go. Shiro’s head slumps to the side. His vision filled with the far wall of the cave. He can feel scale slide against scale, skin against skin, hear the dry rasps of both, as Keith slips back to his original path, but he cannot so much as look down at what is happening to him.

There is hot breath on his abs, a quick bite, then a tongue licking a trail up to the next spot. Shiro’s shoulders jerk and twitch in a approximation of a shiver. They’re the only things that still can. It’s thrilling. 

His pecs get particular attention. Kisses without pinpricks, then the wet smoothness of the blunt side of a fang against one of the pink nubs. Shiro sucks in a breath. Heart beat picking up, as he feels the fang taper to an edge against the sensitive bud. Surely he wouldn’t? Not there? A whine is trapped inside his head, unable to make the leap to reality against his paralyzed vocal chords.

The fang pulls away, he can feel the cold currents of air on wet skin, as Keith breathes in, hear the pregnant silence before movement. Is he? Will he? Then needle sharp pain on either side of his areola. Shiro’s breath whooshes out of him without pitch. Keith chuckles as he moves to his next spot, “Worry wart.”

Two more bites, one to each shoulder, and then he can feel Keith pulling away. It’s cold, exposed, without Keith pressed against him. Without the warm flesh that shielded him. Shiro’s head is turned, his throat bared. It’s like being a child, knowing a monster is sneaking up, but being unable to look and cover your vulnerability. He can’t whimper, can’t beg with his eyes for Keith to come back to him.

A pinch to his nipple. It is a bare distraction from the feeling of something being were he can’t see. A harder pinch, painful, but his body doesn’t even provide a reactive flinch, then a pat, “There we go, all done,” Keith says. Leaning down to wrap himself around Shiro once again. Arms slipping around his neck, hot breath in his hair. He’s surround, safe, nothing can get him. Keith is between him and the rest of the world. Even when gentle fingers shut his eyelids, sealing them with the weight of a thousand immovable rocks. He’s being guarded. No need to watch now, Keith will watch for him.

**Author's Note:**

> A little fun thing inspired by a discord chat, and really, what is the point of being a fanfic writer if you can't foist your kinks off on the world.


End file.
